Unexpected Encounters
by Corey Lin
Summary: Five years after the defeat of Voldemort, a chance encounter on a London street opens new possibilities for friendship and shows just how much one man can change. Written after HBP and is not DH compliant. Now completed!
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: Harry Potter, all other characters and the lovely world they live in all belong to the amazing J.K. Rowling. I'm just playing with them; I'll put them back when I'm done.

A/N: This is something that I wrote 90% of several years ago and published partially finished to another website. I've recently been cleaning up my hard drive and came across it and thought I'd finish it up and publish it here as well. It was written after HBP but before DH and therefore is not DH compliant.

Unexpected Encounters

Chapter One

Dudley Dursley wasn't sure exactly when it occurred to him that life wasn't exactly what his parents told him it was. He'd love to be able to say that he realized this early on, that he'd recognized the strange happenings that occurred within his childhood home as wrong while they were taking place, but he found it hard to tell that lie even to himself. No, Dudley Dursley spent his entire childhood and adolescence firmly agreeing with his parents that he was the most special person in the entire world and that his cousin Harry, who had been left on their doorstep as a baby, was nothing more than a freak to be ridiculed and hated. He never thought it strange that he had everything he ever wanted while his cousin made do with whatever Dudley no longer wanted. It never occurred to him how strange it was that he had two bedrooms all to himself, and one sat empty most of the time, while Harry slept in the cupboard. He never questioned the amazing freedom he had, to go where he wanted, to do whatever he wanted unencumbered by the locks or long lists of chores that kept his cousin from doing the same. No, this was just the way life was in Dudley's world, and the differences between the way the two boys were treated was nothing to be concerned about after all, because Harry was abnormal, and Dudley was, as his mother kept reminding him, the most special person in the entire world.

As a result of being the most special person in the world, Dudley was entitled to have or do anything he wanted with no reprimand or recourse for any of his actions. Everything could be explained away with a good excuse or a lie, and whatever it was that Dudley was supposed to have done wrong was either someone else's fault, or a complete exaggeration on the part of the accuser, usually his cousin. Dudley never got punished for anything, and even in situations where he knew he was at fault, he was always able to shift the blame and the subsequent punishment to Harry. This had of course started at home, with his mother and father doting on him constantly, and had, with the encouragement of his parents, continued throughout his primary schooling. Leaving home for the first time to attend Smeltings had, if anything, only served to increase his overdeveloped sense of self worth. Smeltings was full of other students just like himself; in fact, the entire school seemed to cater to them. Each child there seemed to be just as spoiled as he, not a single one of them able to look beyond their own desires to the world beyond them and it was the perfect environment for Dudley to continue to cruise through life without a care in the world.

If everything had continued according to plan, Dudley would have gone to university at his father's Alma Mater, which, like Smeltings, would have allowed him to continue in his most-favored-boy status. He would have majored in business, just like his father; then gone to work at Grunning's at an entry-level position that would allow his father to quickly nudge him through the ranks. He would have continued with life as a Dursley: grown up to be a proper Dursley man, married a girl who would become a proper Dursley woman, spawn proper Dursley children whom he would then mold into smaller versions of himself, just as his parents had done to him. This was the plan, set into motion by his parents long before he was even born, and meticulously adhered to, even with the extra burden of dealing with his freaky cousin. Dudley never questioned the plan, never thought about anything different and was perfectly happy following along with it, and would have continued to do so if it weren't for one tiny wrinkle in it that appeared shortly before his leaving Smeltings. The wrinkle seemed like a blessing at first: it came in the form of a letter from a university athletics department that had heard great things about his boxing talent. This university, much larger and more prestigious than the one his father had attended, wanted Dudley to come and join their boxing program; in fact they wanted it so much they were willing to offer him a full scholarship if he were to accept. For the first time in his life, Dudley's actions started to deviate from the master plan.

His first month at University was a wake up call for Dudley. His parents had accompanied him to the campus to get him settled into his dormitory in their usual overbearing manner. His mother had fussed over him and his room, helped him get all of his possessions unpacked and made sure he was settled in the manner that she felt he deserved. He didn't think a thing of it; after all, they had done the same thing his first term at Smeltings, along with many of the other parents. However it seemed that here, it was different. His parents had barely disappeared around the end of the hallway, waving and blowing kisses, when he heard a great burst of laughter coming from the other end of the hall, intermixed with a girl's mocking voice talking about spoiled little boys who needed their Mummy to make sure they had remembered to bring all of their socks and underclothes. Dudley's face had flushed in a mixture of rage and embarrassment when he realized they were talking about him. He looked around and realized that the majority of his dormmates had arrived by themselves, and the few whose parents did accompany them, had managed to dispatch them away quickly. Contrasted with his own mother and the way she had spent several hours coddling him, in full earshot of the rest of the dorm, he felt the first ever chink in the world that he had up until now inhabited.

In anger, he turned to the only way he knew to deal with the mocking voices: he'd show them. After all, his fists had always served him well in the past; he'd just do to these people the same thing he'd done his entire life to those who dared to mock him. He didn't have trouble finding the source of the laughter, but once he saw the gathering of students, he realized that fighting wasn't an option for dealing with this. In the past, he'd always had his group of friends to back him up, and it was usually just dealing with one, or at the most, two people. Here, the situation was reversed. He found himself alone, staring at a mixed group of eight boys and girls around his own age, his fellow students, lounging in the room next door with the door open. Most of them looked away as he looked in; only two met his eyes. One, a tall boy with dark hair and broad shoulders had a challenging look in his dark eyes as he stared at Dudley. A few other boys also looked more than capable of sticking up for themselves and their friends if necessary. He realized in a flash that going into that room with fists swinging was a bad idea, so instead he just stopped and stared, trying to force a threatening look onto his face past the hurt that he was feeling. A curly haired girl, who was the only other person in the room to look at him, smirked at him and appeared to be trying to keep from laughing out loud. His attempt at intimidating them with a look didn't work the way it always had in the past, so without another word, he turned and walked away. Laughter rang out behind him again and he could have sworn he heard someone call out a goodbye to "Dinky Duddydums" as he left. Would his mother ever stop calling him that?

Dudley didn't know what to make of this turn of events. He had never been heckled or teased by anyone. Well, after his cousin Harry started at that freak school of his, he would make teasing comments to Dudley, but somehow that wasn't the same thing. Harry was his family, and for the longest time, he was also Dudley's victim. Harry had reason to hate him, and as angry as Dudley used to get over Harry's comments, he knew that it was the only way that the other boy had of striking at Dudley, and he had never let the comments bother him. However this was different; these people had no reason to make fun of him, he had never met them before in his life. A more sensitive soul than Dudley would have drawn the parallels between the way his new schoolmates treated him and the way that he and the gang of boys that he gathered around him had treated his schoolmates from nursery school right through to leaving Smeltings. However, Dudley never made this connection. He always had a reason for bullying his fellow students; these people had no reason for treating him this way. He was angry with them for making fun of him and angry with his mother for giving them the ammunition to use.

Life got no better after that first day. The curly haired girl kept popping up when he least expected it. She shared three subjects with him, and always seemed to be surrounded by a circle of friends as he passed between lectures. Likewise, she would pop up almost every time he ventured from his room for meals. Even his roommate, a small brown haired boy who had hardly said three words to Dudley since the start of term, could be seen in the group of people clustered around her in the dining hall. His course work was no better. Dudley had never been an exceptional student; quite the contrary: his grades were consistently near the bottom of the class, but he had never worried about it. His self-centered, bullying ways and poor work ethic that had served him so well in the past did nothing to endear him to his lecturers and they had no problems in letting him know.

By the end of two weeks, Dudley was starting to think he had made a mistake by accepting the scholarship. His dormmates had grown tired of teasing him about his mother and had moved on to his weight, his hair, and even his study habits. He had tried to retaliate in the first week, only to realize that his responses only egged them on further. They were much subtler than he had ever been, but their taunts affected him to the point where he was almost starting to empathize with his own victims over the years. The only thing that kept him going was his new boxing coach and the gym that was open to his disposal.

By the time three weeks had passed, Dudley was spending almost as much time in the gym working out as he did in class, and was sure that he had made a mistake by trying something new. The teasing hadn't increased; in fact, for most of the other students, as their work load picked up, they backed off a little, but the curly headed girl who had been the first one to throw taunts his way seemed to have no intention of easing up. He was just starting to recognize something of himself in her, and tried desperately not to let her see how deeply her words cut into him.

One month into the university term found him struggling in his subjects, incredibly lonely, and absolutely miserable. He had been called into a meeting with his boxing coach earlier that day and told that if his results didn't improve soon, he was going to be kicked out the program and his scholarship revoked. He had tried to wheedle his way around this with no success. The thought of losing the one thing he cared about at this university hit him hard, and he finally sat quietly and nodded when the conditions of his continued participation in the boxing program were laid out for him. He must attend all of his lectures regularly and maintain at least a passing mark in each of them. He would have access to a tutor if necessary, but he was going to have to put forth a fair amount of effort just to pull out passing marks.

That night saw Dudley hit the lowest point he'd ever encountered in his young, sheltered life. He was furious with his classmates, with his coach, with the unfair system that punished people like him, although he wouldn't be able to say how, if pressed. He should have never come here, he should have followed his father's footsteps and then he wouldn't have to deal with this; he could just move forward with his life the way he always planned, before this horrible place had lured him in with their scholarship offers. Screw it all, he didn't need this. His parents would love to have him back home and at the start of next term he could head to his father's old school, just as they had planned from the time he was a very small child. He didn't need this kind of stress in his life, he was special, hadn't his mother always told him that? He stormed around his room, gathering up his belongings and throwing them into his trunk. He'd call his parents and they would be more than happy to come and get him and those in this university who seemed intent on making his life miserable would just have to find a new target for their maliciousness. Halfway through this frantic packing session, his roommate walked in, took note of the situation, let out some sort of strangled squeak and left the room as quickly as he entered, the door remaining open behind him. Within seconds he heard laughter from the next room, along with a voice insisting that someone owed them ten pounds, because they had been sure that the ignorant whale of a mummy's boy would be flunking out before the end of term, and good riddance to him. Dudley stopped dead in the middle of his packing, feeling like he'd been hit in the head with something large and heavy, and felt the anger and resentment building in him. How dare they make those kind of assumptions about him; he had as much right to be here as they did. He finally felt a bit of a desire to prove himself and show that they were wrong, that he wasn't going to fail. A fierce determination grew deep within him and he reached for his trunk to unpack.

The rest of the term saw Dudley struggling, fighting not only his own tendency to slack off on anything that wasn't important to him, but also the attitudes of those around him, both teachers and classmates, who seemed to expect him to fail. He managed to eke out a tentative friendship with a few other students that occupied the fringes of campus life with him, and with the help of his tutor started making progress in his classes. Stung by the comments about his still considerable weight, he cracked down on his diet, following it more closely than he had since his first year of boxing at Smeltings. That, combined with the time he spent in the gym, started to make a noticeable difference in his appearance. His course work continued to be an issue: at the time he made the commitment to succeed, he had been so far behind it seemed impossible to salvage decent results. Still, by the time the Christmas holidays rolled around, and with them the end of the term, he had managed to squeak by.

Dudley had been looking forward to Christmas at home with his family since the first week of term. His parents had informed him that his Aunt Marge would be joining them, and Dudley was looking forward to seeing them as well as his friends. What he hadn't counted on was the fact that he had somehow, inexplicably, changed during his time at university. He wasn't sure what to make of this the first night he was home, when, for the first time in his life he looked upon his mother's fussing and simpering over him as an intrusion rather than a means to be able to manipulate her into giving him the things he wanted, whether it be toys, food or money. Even worse was the time he spent with the gang of boys he had grown up with, vandalizing the neighborhood and bullying anyone foolish enough to get in their way. Somehow now, long nights spent at the town centre or the cinema harassing the other patrons no longer appealed to him. Between his mother overwhelming him at every turn and his friends trying to get him to continue to be the same person he had been before he had felt the sting of that sort of harassment turned upon him, Dudley for the first time felt out of place in the home that used to be his sanctuary.

It wasn't until Christmas dinner that it finally hit Dudley that his lifelong ambition to grow up to be exactly like his father was no longer appealing to him. He had felt a bit off-kilter all day. He had been unexpectedly overwhelmed by the sheer number of gifts thrust upon him that morning and a full day of listening to his father and Aunt Marge criticize everything from the state of the local government, to the audacity of teenagers these days, to the family down the street who dared to allow their daughter to socialize with the sort of people rarely seen on Privet Drive. Since Dudley had been very small, he had wanted nothing more than to grow up to be exactly like his father, a sentiment encouraged by his mother. But he now realized exactly what that would entail, as he saw the man for who he was for the first time. He remembered their treatment of his cousin, who had walked out of their life eighteen months ago and hadn't been heard from since. He knew first hand of the intolerance directed towards anyone who dared to be little different, to show any sort of individuality. As his father became louder and more boorish with every successive glass of wine consumed, the realization sank deeper and deeper into Dudley that this was not what he wanted for the rest of his life, and the thought scared him.

**


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: Harry Potter, all other characters and the lovely world they live in all belong to the amazing J.K. Rowling. I'm just playing with them; I'll put them back when I'm done.

Chapter Two

That Christmas marked a complete turning point in Dudley's life. He returned to school the next term with a new outlook on life, and a driving ambition to make something of himself out of the shadow of his family. He threw himself into his course work, surprising himself as well as everyone else at how well he could get along if he put his mind to it. His second term opened new doors for him, including a subject on psychology that intrigued him like no other subject he had ever taken. He was so fascinated with the topic that he sought out every related subject he could find, and by the end of his second year in university, he ad settled upon it as a course of study, along with the business subjects he hadn't yet had the courage to turn away from. His parents were thrilled to be able to brag about not only his continued success in boxing, but for the first time ever, his results at university. Dudley ignored this, starting to distance himself from his family. His mother cried when he decided not to come home for the summer holidays after his second year, finding a part time job and using that as an excuse to stay away. He found himself content in several easy friendships that were as different as night and day from the ones he had held as a young man with Piers and Malcolm and Gordon.

His third year brought in-depth studies in his chosen field, including a course on the effects of abuse that opened his eyes like no other subject he had ever taken. He had never really dwelled on the way his cousin had been treated growing up, having been told by his parents that this was the way things should be; after all, Harry was abnormal. He would never forget the day he realized exactly how very wrong his childhood home had been. The knowledge that he had sat by, said nothing, and even accepted as normal the kind of neglect that Harry had suffered while Dudley had been pampered within an inch of his life made him physically ill.

Upon receiving his undergraduate degree, his father approached him with a job offer from Grunning's: an entry level position that would pay more than many employees who had worked for the company for years, nepotism being alive and well in his father's eyes. This was to be a starting point for Dudley, and in less than a year, he could move into management, well on his way to taking over from his father when the time came. Dudley refused it. The row that followed was spectacular: his mother cried, his father yelled and turned a color purple that hadn't graced his face since Harry had moved out. Throughout the row, Dudley remained calm and quiet, insisting that he was returning to university for a graduate degree. After a long night filled with threats and shouting, a compromise was reached in the wee hours of the morning: Dudley would go to work for Grunning's, in the position of his choosing, for three years. At the end of these years, if he still wished to further his education, his parents would again foot the bill. Not knowing how he would pay for his education otherwise, he fulfilled his end of the bargain by taking a job as a sales manager at one of Grunning's retail shops in London. It was not challenging work and only reinforced Dudley's belief that he wanted to do something different with his life.

Dudley's job was boring and he hated it with a passion, and days like today made him regret that deal he made with his father. After all, many people managed to pay for their education without help from their parents; getting roped into this horrid deal with his father was just another example of his inability to pull away from his family. God knows he had tried for years, but just hadn't quite been strong enough to sever all ties. Alone in his flat, he constantly berated himself over this, making plans to tell his father exactly why he didn't want to follow in his footsteps to become the next in a long line of Dursley men living boring, horrid lives, and tell his mother that he was a grown man and the way she treated him like a little boy was just absurd. He would fantasize about the fight that would follow, and imagine himself walking out the door with his head held high. He would accept his mother's invitations home, practically quivering in anticipation, dreaming of finally telling them how he felt, of having his say and controlling the conversation on his own terms. Then he'd get home, and see how pathetically happy his mother was to see him as she fussed about how he needed to meet a girl and settle down; he'd see the gray in their hair, and the lines on their faces and know that he would fail once again in his plans to shatter their world. So he sat in his miserable little office behind the shop and suffered another day, another week, another month in a job that he hated, because what exactly what was three years in the grand scheme of things when it came to keeping his parents happy? After all, they were starting to get older, and in spite of everything else, he did love them, and the reality of breaking their hearts was just too much to bear. But he couldn't help but envy Harry his ability to walk out without a backward glance.

The one thing this job did afford him was plenty of time to let his mind wander: his return to his graduate studies; his need to buy things for his under-furnished little flat; plans for the next pub crawl with his friends; the book he was in the middle of reading; all these thoughts drifted through his mind on a daily basis. Dudley had one year left in his agreement with his father, and as far as he was concerned, it couldn't pass quickly enough. Stretching back in his chair, he felt his back pop and decided that it was time for a break. Perhaps he'd walk down the street and get a cup of tea and a bun; anything to get out of this wretched little hole of an office and away from the mundane workings of the shop. The shop he managed was located in a busy retail centre in the heart of London. The shops nearby were usually busy and he was normally happy with the heavy foot traffic that kept people moving in and out of his shop. Today however, the crowds of people on the street served little purpose other than to annoy him. Walking out of the tea shop he collided with another pedestrian and automatically murmured an apology without even looking. It wasn't until they each turned their separate ways that he caught a glimpse of the man with whom he had collided, and his breath caught in his throat. He knew this man; in fact, he used to know him very well. Without stopping to think of what he was doing, he turned to follow him.

Dudley quickened his steps, trying to get close enough to the man to get a better look. The hair was definitely familiar, and within a half block he was close enough to see the green eyes and that oh-so-identifiable scar. The glasses were gone, and Dudley idly wondered if there was some magical explanation for it, or if his cousin had finally decided on either contacts or that new laser surgery to fix his eyesight. For the man he was following was without a doubt his cousin Harry. He hadn't seen the man in almost six years, and the last time he had, his cousin was still just a boy: a tall, gangly, just-barely-seventeen-year-old boy, who, although he was starting to fill out, was still skinny and awkward. The man he was now observing was anything but. When he had last seen Harry, they were almost the same height, but while Dudley hadn't grown much taller since then, Harry appeared to have gained several more inches, making him taller than Dudley could have ever imagined he would be, considering how small he'd been as a child. His shoulders were much broader than Dudley remembered, and he was definitely more muscular. The years had without a doubt been kind to Harry. But beyond the physical changes, there was something else about the man in front of him that set him apart from the boy Dudley used to know: this man was not the quiet, meek boy that Dudley had grown up with. Make no mistake, Dudley had known from a very young age that Harry was more than capable of defending himself with scathing remarks and verbal attacks. Dudley had been on the receiving end of these too many times, but this was different. Before, there was always an underlying sadness, almost fear, that seemed to be missing now. Harry was smiling; no, not just smiling, grinning, an expression Dudley had never seen on his face before. He stopped short, trying to reconcile this confident, mature Harry, with the boy he had grown up with. Realizing that he'd lose Harry if he didn't get moving, Dudley continued to work his way through the crowd on the footpath.

Dudley had been so busy watching his cousin that he had almost missed the girl walking beside him. Very closely beside him. She was pressed up against him, their hands entwined and her head resting against his upper arm. Dudley's breath caught in his throat. She was tiny, the top of her head barely coming to Harry's shoulder, and she had long red hair that fell to her waist in a glimmering, silky, copper sheet. Her eyes were bright and sparkling with excitement over whatever it was they were discussing. As Dudley continued to watch, she looked up at Harry, said something to him, and then laughed. He manages to get close enough to the couple so that he could hear her laugh as it rang out over the heads of the crowd. She pulled away from Harry's side, but didn't relinquish her grip on his hand. She was an arm's length away from him now, her bouncy gait making it look like she was almost dancing around him. The grin on her face spoke of a wicked sense of humor as she continued her orbit around Harry until she was actually facing him, walking backwards down the street, her hand still firmly clutched in his. Her eyes flashed as her mouth moved; she was still speaking to Harry, who grinned back at her with an expression so filled with joy and love that it changed his entire face. Dudley couldn't blame Harry, goodness knows if he had a woman like that hanging onto his hand, he'd be happy too. In his eyes, she was beautiful. Granted, with her vivid red hair and the sprinkling of freckles over her small nose, she wasn't a classic beauty, but just this quick glimpse he'd seen of her sent a pang of complete jealousy through Dudley's heart.

He hesitated for a moment, trying to decide if he wanted to actually catch up with them and talk to his cousin. What would he say? He had thought about it for years, since that first horrible time in lectures when he realized just how badly Harry must have suffered at the hands of his family. But all the prepared words and speeches that he had thought of when imagining this meeting didn't seem to fit now. His mind raced, trying to reconcile the picture that he held in his head of the skinny little ten-year-old locked in the cupboard, with this confident laughing man in front of him. His hesitation cost him dearly. He was bumped into from behind, and when he looked back up after quickly checking to make sure that the person behind him was all right, Harry and the girl hanging onto his hand had both vanished.

**


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: Harry Potter, all other characters and the lovely world they live in all belong to the amazing J.K. Rowling. I'm just playing with them; I'll put them back when I'm done.

Chapter Three

Dudley wasn't sure why he kept watching the street where he had seen his cousin. Logic kept telling him that it was nothing but coincidence that he had seen Harry the first time and that it would require a lot more luck than Dudley had any right to expect for a chance to see him again. Nevertheless, he had moved his desk to a point where he could watch out his tiny window and search the faces of the crowds passing by. He watched for weeks, his heart giving a tiny jump every time he saw black hair on the top of a tall head. Weeks stretched into months and he continued to look, no longer expecting to see him again, but still he looked. He wondered again about the depth of his obsession with his cousin, and even debated asking his parents if they knew how to get in touch with him. Only his rather considerable fear of his father's reaction kept him from asking. He remembered the owls sweeping in and out of their home carrying letters, and vaguely wondered exactly how one went about getting an owl to carry a letter and would it do him any good to find out, when he didn't even know Harry's address?

He couldn't explain, even to himself why it was so important to talk to him after all of these years, but the urge was strong. Was it nothing more than pity after that horrible realization in class of just how badly Harry had been wronged by his family? Was that where this overwhelming urge to apologize came from? And how exactly was he supposed to go up to a man he hadn't seen in over six years and tell him he was sorry that he'd been an absolute git for their entire childhood? Dudley had a hard enough time dealing with his own part in this fiasco. He had terrorized the other boy for years, going out of his way to ridicule him, to hunt him down and hit him, to make trouble for him. And the worst part of it was that Dudley had done so not only with the full knowledge of his parents, but with their approval and encouragement. He supposed as a young child that it really wasn't his fault, after all, how is a three-year-old to know the difference between right and wrong when his parents don't teach it to him. But he couldn't help but think that at some point he should have known. How did he manage to get to the age of twenty before realizing how cruel he had been? And how did that scrawny little boy who had gotten so good at running away turn into that confident man he saw on the street? What exactly happened at that magic school that he had gone too?

For months after glimpsing Harry on the street, the questions haunted Dudley. He needed nothing more than to just see his cousin once again, get a chance to talk to him. The overwhelming need to apologize for his actions over the years consumed him. So he watched, every day he was at work, and sometimes he'd even venture down there on his days off, get a cup of tea and sit and watch the crowds go by. Perhaps because it had been so long since the initial encounter, but when Dudley first saw the flash of bright red hair and the tall man who accompanied it, he dismissed them as not being who he was looking for. But a second glance proved him wrong, and sent him scrambling out of his chair and for the door. He would not miss a second chance.

By the time he made it to the street, the couple he sought was already a full block away. Dudley hurried after them as fast as he thought he could get away with, considering the number of people on the sidewalks. Offering multiple apologies as he wound his way through the crowd, he quickly made up ground on his prey. He was close enough to see them now, and to hear the murmurs of their conversation, even though he couldn't make out the words. The girl was laughing again, and Harry was shaking his head, grinning at whatever it was that had caused her to laugh, the air of happiness surrounding them almost tangible. With a last lunge that made the other pedestrians stare at him like he was insane, he got close enough to make contact.

Dudley reached out and tapped Harry on the shoulder, and stopped dead in his tracks as the other man turned to face him. Dudley stood up straight, realizing that yes, in fact he was now several inches shorter than his cousin. "Harry?"

"Yes?" Green eyes studied him in confusion. "Can I help you?" Dudley supposed that he couldn't blame Harry for not recognizing him. After all, it had been a long time since they'd seen each other, and even as much as Harry had changed, Dudley had undergone an even more dramatic transformation. He had cut his weight very nearly in half while at university, and the weight that remained had been transformed from fat to muscle. All this resulted in a much altered physique, one which he had taken care to maintain in the intervening years,

Dudley looked back at Harry and opened his mouth, suddenly not sure of what to say. A spark of recognition crossed Harry's face. "Dudley?" His voice was tinged with disbelief. "It is you. Wow. I never really expected to see you again." He paused, and Dudley struggled again to find something to say while the silence stretched just barely long enough to be uncomfortable. Harry glanced around the street, ran his hand through his hair and spoke again. "You look really good. I hardly recognized you, you've changed so much."

"You too." Dudley finally found his voice. "Look good I mean. You've grown up." Inwardly he was berating himself for his total inability to string together a sentence of more than a few words, but his brain seemed to be taking a short break, intent on making him sound like a babbling idiot. Silence stretched again. The redheaded girl attached to Harry's hand looked back and forth between them. She'd looked startled when Harry first acknowledged Dudley, she must have been somewhat aware of their past, but now her face held only an expression of curiosity.

She must have squeezed Harry's hand, because he gave a little start and looked down at her. Clearing his throat, he again broke the silence. "Dudley, this is my wife, Ginny. Ginny, my cousin, Dudley."

She put out her hand and Dudley shook it, both of them murmuring the appropriate niceties. He looked up at Harry. "Your wife? You got married?"

Harry nodded and the smile was back. "Yep. Best thing I ever did. It'll be three years in September."

The girl, Ginny beamed up at Harry who looked positively besotted as he looked down at her again. Dudley was once again struck by a wave of jealousy. "Wow. Congratulations. You look really happy."

"I am." Silence stretched again, and Dudley once again began to question his decision to seek Harry out. He noticed Ginny nudging Harry in the ribs and a short exchange of looks between them. Forcing his gaze from Ginny to Dudley, Harry spoke again, looking almost as if he had to force the words out. "How are your parents?" Dudley was impressed, even though it looked as if it had been painful for Harry to ask, he had managed to do so with just a hint of a grimace on his face.

Knowing that Harry was asking only out of obligation, and decided that instead of the socially acceptable platitudes, he'd be honest. "Horrid as ever. They are still rude and loud and overbearing and obnoxious." Dudley stifled a laugh at the look on Harry's face. "Dad's been rowing with the neighbors and making a complete prat of himself and Mum's driving me mad telling me to find a girl and get married. I'll have to tell her that you've done just that. She'll have kittens." He chucked imagining the look on his mother's face if he mentioned Harry to her.

"Horrid?" Harry was gaped at him for a moment, then his eyes narrowed, Dudley wondered if it was suspicion or anger. "What's the matter? They not buy you a new car or something?"

Dudley hung his head. "I wouldn't accept it even if they tried." He tried to keep the hurt out of his voice, knowing that Harry had every right to hate him, and this was going to be his one chance to convince the other man to give him a chance to prove himself. "I've changed a lot since we last talked. I'm not my father and I don't want to be."

"You can't be serious. That's all you ever wanted growing up, was to be just like him."

Dudley sighed. In all honesty he had expected this and was surprised that Harry had even continued this conversation once he realized who it was "Don't judge me by my parents Harry. You've obviously grown up a lot, don't doubt that I could do the same." He ran his hand through his short hair, unconsciously mirroring Harry's actions from a few minutes before. He looked down at his feet, avoiding Harry's eyes and the condemnation he was afraid of finding there.

Harry's gaze upon him was tangible. "You've changed from what I remember."

Dudley shoved his hands in the pockets of his trousers and raised his head, even more uncomfortable. "Listen, this isn't the best place to have this conversation, can we go get a cup of tea or something?

Harry glanced at his watch and shook his head. "We've got an appointment in about five minutes that we've got to get to. Maybe some other time." His voice trailed off on the last of his statement.

Dudley's heart sank. He was being blown off, which was not totally unexpected. "Oh. That's alright."

Ginny spoke up. "We'll be done in about an hour, would you be able to meet then? Maybe then we could just get dinner." Harry gave her a quick glance, with an expression that Dudley couldn't read, but then he looked up at Dudley and nodded. Ginny grinned. "Good. We can meet up right here and decide where to go from there."

Dudley looked around. They were standing in front of a large shop front. The name over the large windows read Purge and Dowse, Ltd. and signs on the doors announced that it was closed for refurbishment. "An hour you said?" Harry nodded. "Well then I guess I'll see you then."

Harry hesitated a moment, then held out his hand for Dudley to take. "One hour. And it really was good to see you Dudders." The serious expression on his face only echoed the sincerity in his voice. Harry wrapped his arm around Ginny's waist as they stood hesitantly, seemingly waiting for his cousin to turn and walk away first. Taking the hint, Dudley started walking the familiar path back to his shop. A few steps away, he turned around to glance again at Harry and his wife, but they were gone.

**

An hour later found Dudley waiting leaning against the locked doors of Purge and Dowse, searching the faces of the crowd around him. He'd gone back to his office and spent part of the intervening hour trying to finish his daily paperwork without much success. Finally knowing that he'd have to redo it all the next day since his mind truly wasn't on his work, he closed up his computer for the day and headed out, arriving a few minutes early at the storefront to wait for Harry and his wife. The faces around him surged, none of them familiar, and he was starting to wonder if they would show when a voice at his elbow startled him. "Hey Dudley." The Potters had appeared next to him, seemingly out of nowhere. Dudley looked up, both of them were laughing at some private joke, brilliant smiles on their faces.

"Hey. Where did you come from and how did you get here without me seeing you?" He pushed off the door and stood up, looking from one to the other, confused.

Harry got a teasing grin on his face. "Magic." He glanced at his wife, who was wearing a similar grin. Well she wasn't shocked, so that answered that question, she was as well versed in this whole wizard thing as Harry was.

Dudley stared at him in shock for a moment, then nodded. "Fair enough." He didn't doubt for a moment that Harry was telling the complete truth, but he wasn't sure why it shocked him so much. He'd been so wrapped up in his own feelings towards his cousin that he'd pushed the thought of his cousin being a wizard to the back of his mind, but having Harry just mention it so causally gave him a bit of a shock. He also knew without a doubt that this was somewhat of a test, The last time that Harry had mentioned magic to him, it had been the night that they had the run-in with the dementors, and that night had been a certifiable disaster. There has never been an instance in their shared past where Harry had mentioned magic and Dudley had calmly accepted it as if it was not a big thing. No time like the present to show Harry just how much he had changed. Laughing inwardly at himself and the fear he had shown as a child he smiled at Harry and Ginny. "So, dinner? Any thoughts on where to go?"

Harry gave him a quizzical look. "That wasn't the reaction I was expecting. No scared expression, no mumbled comments about freaks. You are Dudley Dursley, right?"

Dudley looked at Harry for a moment in confusion before realizing that he was being teased and responding in kind. "Well I'm a bit old to go running off to my mummy screaming about the bad wizard who scared me."

"Never stopped you before."

Dudley laughed. "I deserved that. I was quite the whingy little brat wasn't I?"

"That's not exactly the words I would have chosen." Harry was chuckling now as well.

Ginny spoke up. "I seem to remember a few other choice phrases you used to describe Dudley"

Harry blushed. "Are you trying to get me in trouble?"

"Is it working?" Her eyes sparkled with merriment.

As far as breaking the tension between them, it did work. The three of them found a small pub a few blocks away and enjoyed a dinner that stretched for several hours. Dudley found he quite enjoyed catching up with his cousin, although so much of what he learned had his head spinning. He told them of his time at university and his plans for continuing his education. He heard all about Ginny's family, and they all managed to survive an awkward moment when the subject came up of the last meeting Dudley had with Ginny's brothers. He was amazed to find that the pranksters responsible for the horrible incident with his tongue growing uncontrollably had managed to make a rather spectacular living selling similar items as jokes.

He learned that Harry had become something called an Auror after leaving that school he went to, and that an Auror was something similar to a muggle policeman. This was rather shocking to Dudley, as Harry had never been one to put much store in rules as a child, and he would have never guessed that law enforcement would have been his first career choice. When he mentioned this, it had sent Ginny into fits of laughter, letting him know that this wasn't the first time this had been mentioned.

Harry shot Ginny a sideways look and she managed, with great effort to stifle her laughter. Harry continued on to tell Dudley that he was in fact, currently on a leave of absence from his job since he was in the middle of an extended tryout for the English national Quidditch team.

Dudley's confusion at the word Quidditch must have shown on his face, because Harry and Ginny both launched into an extremely energetic explanation of a game played on flying broomsticks that involved magic balls that flew by themselves and others that apparently tried to kill you as part of the game. Dudley was amazed, he had rarely seen Harry this animated, his love for the game evident in the way that his gestures became wider and his eyes sparkled. The couple went on to regale Dudley with stories of various matches they had played in their time together at school. Dudley learned that Ginny had been a year behind Harry, and that her next oldest brother was one of Harry's best friends.

The conversation flowed throughout the meal, but never delved into serious topics, instead focusing on sharing stories and catching up on what all had transgressed since they had last spent time together. They didn't speak again of the Dursley's, but Dudley did explain about his desire to return to school and the deal he had made with his father to make that happen. He kept looking for an opportunity to move the conversation to more serious subjects, but it seemed like every time the subject matter started to turn serious, one of his dinner companions would make a seemingly innocent change in the subject matter. Dudley didn't think much of this the first few times the conversation veered from the direction he was trying so hard to steer it, but soon came to realize that it was a deliberate action on the part of the other two. Apparently, there were some things that Harry wasn't willing to discuss with Dudley. If he were being perfectly honest with himself, there were plenty of things that he wouldn't have trusted the other man enough to discuss if the situation was reversed.

They talked late into the evening, until they could no longer ignore the pointed looks of the waitstaff and the huge yawns that Ginny couldn't manage to stifle. As they made their way outside, Dudley couldn't help but think how much progress they had made in the course of one meal. There was still a lot of tension between them, there was simply too much bad history that existed to be eliminated in one evening, but he couldn't help but hope that the first steps had been made towards a tentative friendship. As he made vague noises about trying to get together again, Dudley handed Harry a scrap of paper upon which was written his telephone number. Realizing that he had no way of contacting Harry, and that any further interaction between them would have to be initiated by Harry, he headed towards his tiny flat, wondering if this was the beginning of something, or merely a sidestep in the life that his cousin had obviously carved out for himself.

**


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: This is the last of the chapters that had been previously posted a couple of years ago. The next chapter is written and will be posted in the next day or two. Thanks so much to everyone who had read and reviewed and put this story on their alerts or favorites lists.

Chapter Four

Disclaimer: Harry Potter, all other characters and the lovely world they live in all belong to the amazing J.K. Rowling. I'm just playing with them; I'll put them back when I'm done.

Dudley hastily washed the last of the pots in the sink and turned to make one last visual inspection of his flat. Everything seemed to be in the proper place: a good thing, since the small space looked slightly cluttered even when everything was put away, and impossibly messy if it wasn't. It was a far cry from the almost sterile environment of his mother's house, which meant that it was a good thing that Dudley had managed to head her off from ever visiting him, as she would cringe at what her only son considered a comfortable place to live. Everything had been recently cleaned, but all the cleaning in the world wasn't going to override the underlying shabbiness of the flat itself. The sofa and single armchair were mismatched and slightly threadbare, as both had been cast-offs from different friends, but they were cozy to sit on. One overflowing bookcase sat by the single window; no matter how many times Dudley had washed it, it still had a slightly dingy look to it. Even worse, it had been carelessly painted shut by a prior tenant, making it impossible to open - perhaps not such a big deal on this crisp October day, but the memory of the sweltering July and August that had just passed was enough to revive his irritation with the window.

The flat wasn't really setup for entertaining, but he'd wanted to spend some time with Harry and Ginny in a more private setting. Hence the dinner invitation and Dudley's slightly obsessive preparations. Harry had, in fact, contacted him quickly after their successful first meeting. The two of them had met for a casual lunch the next week, since Harry mentioned he was in London for a meeting with his broom supplier. The meeting had been short, but definitely memorable. Harry had recounted the story of his and Ginny's courtship and wedding. Dudley had to admit that Harry had quite a gift for storytelling. The tales of his bachelor party, hosted by Ginny's brothers, had Dudley laughing throughout the entire meal, but like the dinner they had shared the previous week, the conversation never strayed into serious topics, prompting Dudley to invite the Potters to dinner.

A quick glance into the oven reassured Dudley that the meal he had been preparing was right on schedule. A few quick swipes of the countertops returned them to a presentable state. It wouldn't meet his mother's standards of clean, but few things would. His timing was perfect, as a knock on the door signaled the arrival of his guests.

**

Dinner was, without a doubt, one of the best times Dudley had encountered in recent memory. Ginny had been fascinated by the simplest things in his flat, wandering through the kitchen, her eyes wide and her hands reaching out to touch everything. He had been a bit put off at first, but when she explained that she had never been in a non-magic kitchen, he understood. Although he wondered if he would ever get used to being called a Muggle. He'd had the term explained to him during their first dinner, and realized that it wasn't an insult to him, but it was still a bit disconcerting. Harry had sat back with barely contained glee as Dudley explained the purpose of things like the refrigerator, microwave and the toaster. Ginny had flashed Harry a rude hand gesture and teased him that he had been just as out of place the first time he'd visited her family's home.

The meal had come off without a hitch, and the companionable conversation that was quickly becoming a staple of their meetings flowed easily between the three of them. In what seemed like no time at all, the pudding was finished, and Ginny had excused herself to go to the loo, leaving Dudley to clear the table, waving off Harry's offer to help, pointing out that the kitchen was just too tiny for two adults to both be able to work in it at the same time. Instead, Harry perused Dudley's bookshelf with interest, occasionally pulling a title off the shelf and flipping through it. He had questions on some of the titles, and Dudley was only too happy to answer them. They soon retired to the sitting area, Harry claiming the sofa while Dudley settled in his favorite armchair, continuing to chat about the book Harry held in his hand.

Ginny emerged from the toilet, her normally pale skin a slightly green-tinged white. Once glance at her and Harry immediately jumped to his feet, rushing across the room to support her by one elbow. "What's wrong?"

She shook him off and headed for the couch. "Nothing. I'm fine."

Harry looked skeptical. "Are you sure?" Dudley couldn't blame Harry for doubting her, as she looked positively ghostly.

She sat down, and motioned for Harry to sit next to her. "I'm sure. My stomach is just a bit upset, nothing to worry about." She shot a significant look at Harry, who seemed to relax slightly.

"Do you want to head home?"

"No." She was emphatic. "I'm definitely not up to the Floo right now."

Despite this sentence making no sense whatsoever, at least to Dudley, Harry nodded. "We could stay at Grimmauld Place." There was a hint of distaste in his voice.

"I rather think not." It was echoed even stronger in her own.

Dudley spoke up "I've got a car, I could drive you home."

"Thanks, but it's kind of a long drive." Reaching for Ginny's hand, Harry scooted to the end of the sofa. "Well, why don't you at least lie down for a bit, to see if that helps settle your stomach?" She nodded and arranged herself on the rest of the sofa, her head in Harry's lap and her feet propped up on the opposite arm. He let his hand stray to her hair, gently stroking it, and wasn't at all surprised to see her eyes close within minutes. He and Dudley remained silent, and the sounds of Ginny's breathing evening out as she drifted into sleep were the only ones filling the room as the two men watched her.

When he was certain she was asleep, Harry looked up at Dudley and waved vaguely at a woven throw draped over the back of the armchair. "Do you mind if I borrow that?" He kept his voice low, so as not to disturb her.

"Not at all," said Dudley as he started to twist around to pick it up and hand it to Harry. He stopped short as Harry causally pulled his wand out from wherever it had been hidden. With a casual wave of the wand, the throw zoomed across the room, and with another flick of the wand, it arranged itself over the sleeping Ginny. Dudley stared, realizing that this was the first time that he'd ever really seen his cousin performing magic. "Wow."

Harry looked confused. "What?"

"I've never actually seen it. I mean, I know about it, but I've never really seen it." Harry raised an eyebrow in question. "Magic, I mean. I know that you're a wizard and all, but you never used to be allowed to do magic outside of school, and then I never saw you after school."

Harry gave a low chuckle, but didn't respond, instead looking down as Ginny shifted to lie on her side, snuggling into his lap and the throw.

"Is she really okay?" Dudley couldn't help but be concerned, as she really had not looked well earlier, and horrified thoughts that he might have inadvertently given her some sort of food poisoning kept running through his head. The only thing keeping him from a complete panic was the fact that he and Harry had eaten the same meal and both of them were fine.

Harry's hand played across her thick mane of hair. "Yeah, I think so." He glanced up at Dudley, then back down at Ginny. "She's pregnant."

Dudley was startled. That he wasn't expecting. "Pregnant? You're going to have a baby?" He winced at the incredulous tone in his voice.

"Yeah, sometime in March." Harry's voice had taken on a slightly dreamy quality. "We've not told anyone yet; we wanted to make sure that everything was okay." He paused, his eyes growing darker as he continued. "She had a miscarriage about a year ago, so we've been a bit more cautious this time around, but so far so good."

Dudley didn't quite know what to say, the pain in Harry's voice was evident. "I'm sorry."

"It was strange. We had barely found out she was pregnant when it happened, but we'd been so excited to tell everyone we knew, which only made it worse when it happened. It's getting better with this baby. We had to wait a bit to try again, which was really hard." He paused, leaning down to plant a kiss on his wife's forehead. "Her mum took it really hard when we lost the baby. Ginny's the youngest and the only girl, so her mum was thrilled about the baby. We've not told any of them we're pregnant again; we wanted to make sure that everything was going okay before we did."

"And it is? Going well I mean."

"I think so. The Healer said that once we got past the third month that it should be fine. Then again she also said that the morning sickness should be finished by then too, and she's still having problems with it."

Dudley had been watching Harry's hand play with Ginny's hair, but as something Harry had said sunk in, he looked up. "You're telling me about the baby first?"

Harry smiled. "Yeah, I guess I am. It seems strange to think that I get to tell my family first."

"You think of me as family?"

There was a long pause. "You are family."

Dudley shook his head. "I know, we are technically related, but there's a difference between being related and being family. I didn't think you thought of me as family."

"I never used to. You and your parents were just what I had to endure on the summer holidays until I could go back to school." There was no doubting the honesty in Harry's answer.

"You used to hate me." It wasn't a question

Harry nodded. "I did. From where I sat, you weren't exactly likeable. Can you blame me?"

"No. I was horrible, and Mum and Dad were even worse." Dudley shrugged his shoulders. "They still are, really."

"I'm glad you've changed." The words were soft, but earnest.

"Me too." Dudley stood up and walked to the window. He'd been waiting for months to have this conversation, and now that it was here, he wished he could put it off a little longer. "I hate the way I used to be. I hate the way I treated you, I hate the way I behaved."

Harry waved a dismissive hand. "You were just a kid."

"I was a nasty kid. I was rude and obnoxious and I sat around and watched the way they treated you and I never said anything." Dudley started pacing, Harry watching him without saying a word. "You lived in a damned cupboard for ten years. That's just insane, and I never said a word. I baited you and hit you and teased you, and I used to go out of my way to make sure that you got into trouble. You worked like a slave around that house while I sat around on my fat arse and never said a word. They hit you and made you wear my old clothes and practically starved you." Dudley swiped at his cheeks where a few traitorous tears had appeared. "They should have been arrested for the way they treated you! I hate that I never said anything to anyone. I should have realized that it was wrong and done something to stop them."

Harry finally spoke up. "How were you supposed to know it was wrong? You were just a kid yourself, and you'd been told that was the way things were, that it was normal. You didn't know any better."

"Yeah, and how old were you when you realized it was wrong?"

Harry shrugged. "I don't know, I suppose around seven or so. We'd been in school for a couple of years."

"I was nineteen, Harry! How crazy is that? I was an adult before I realized just how screwed up they were, how screwed up our home was, and what a complete git I was." It was quiet for a few moments while Dudley stopped pacing and stared out the window, gathering his courage. "I'm sorry."

"For what?"

"For everything! For the Harry Hunting, for Piers and the rest of them, for everything that they gave me while you had nothing. Most of all, for being such a self-absorbed idiot that I never realized it was wrong when I could have done something about it." There was a huge lump in his throat, and he was surprised that he could still speak around it.

"It's hard to know right from wrong when no one ever teaches it to you." Harry's voice was quiet. "They were overwhelming, constantly giving you this skewed version of normal and making sure that you were surrounded by people that were as screwed up as they are. It wasn't your fault."

"I hate them."

"They're your parents."

"I don't care. They're horrible people. It shouldn't be like this, we shouldn't be strangers meeting on the street, not having seen each other in years. We should have been brothers, should have been a real family, and they took that away from us." The tears were back, despite his effort to stem them. He hadn't cried in years, but the anger towards his parents combined with his own guilt had him teetering on an emotional brink, leaving him a tenuous control on his emotions.

"We're family."

"No, we're not. We're nothing more than strangers with a shared past." Dudley jerked his head to indicate Ginny. "She's your family: Ron and her other brothers and her parents and your baby. That's your family, not some berk who used to make your life miserable as a kid." He slumped back into the overstuffed armchair.

When Harry finally spoke, it was in a voice so low that Dudley had to strain to hear it. "They are a wonderful family, and have been ever since I met them. But you are one of the few people who've known me my entire life."

"We barely know each other."

"We can change that."

"You mean that?" There was a hopeful tone in his voice as he sat forward in his chair.

"Yeah, I do." Harry looked down again to gaze at Ginny, where she slept on, her head snuggled into his lap, apparently unaffected by their conversation "I want my baby to know at least one member of his grandmother's family."

"You wouldn't have said so five years ago." Dudley reverted back to his slouched position. "I never even met your mum and dad. And you've got a family now; you married into one of the biggest families I know of."

"True. The Weasleys practically adopted me when I was in school and it's only been better since Ginny and I got married. But they've always been Ron and Ginny's family, not my own. Sirius was the closest I had to a family of my own, but then he died." His voice trailed off for a second, but then he continued on. "And we're building our own family now, but I always missed having someone who has known me my entire life, or at least most of it."

"So I'm trying like mad to escape from what you've been looking for your entire life?"

Harry laughed. "I know your family, and I think you might be better off."

"You've got a point," Dudley conceded.

"We've got each other, we can be the friends we always should have been, and could have been, if it weren't for them. Although, now that I think about it, more like brothers than friends." Harry grinned at Dudley, and silence once again fell in the room, but it had changed; it was more comfortable, stretching between them warmly. Finally Harry looked up again. "You've seen me do magic."

"Huh?" Dudley had been thinking over their conversation and was thrown by this apparent non-sequitur.

Harry couldn't resist teasing his cousin. "There's the Dudders I know." They both laughed. "You said that you'd never seen me do magic, but I know that you have. I know I did accidental magic as a kid, and don't you remember me blowing up Aunt Marge or getting rid of the Dementors?"

"I forgot about you blowing up Aunt Marge! But that was different, you didn't have a wand or anything, all I remember was her harping on your parents and you got so angry. And with those Dementor things, I was so scared and it was so dark, I wasn't really paying attention to you at all."

Harry sat up straighter, making Ginny shift positions on his lap. "I always wondered. What did you hear when the Dementors came? I mean, they make you relive the worst moments of your life, and I couldn't figure out what had been so horrible in your life to scare you so much."

Dudley laughed. "You really want to hear this? You want to hear what a shallow, spoilt prat I was?" Harry nodded. "Okay. Don't laugh at me. Remember, you said that I didn't know any better."

"This should be good."

"Maybe from your point of view." Sitting in the overstuffed armchair again, he leaned forward, his elbows resting on his legs. "Okay, remember when your letters from your school started coming and Dad shoved us all in the car and drove us around for days without stopping to eat or anything?"

"That was your worst memory?"

"One of them. Also, that stupid pig's tail that I had to have removed, that thing with my tongue growing, the snake at the zoo, Aunt Marge and a couple of blazing rows that Mum and Dad had about you. That's about it."

"That's not so bad." Harry was trying his hardest to keep his word and not laugh, but he was failing miserably. "You sure seemed terrified when it was happening."

"Go ahead and laugh. I told you, I was a spoilt brat. I thought it was horrible." Shaking his head, he leaned back in his chair, waiting for Harry's laughter to fade. "What about you? What do you hear when they get close?"

"My parents being murdered." There was no trace of the laughter left in the serious-faced young man on the sofa.

Dudley's face paled. "How do you remember that? You were just a baby!"

"It's weird. I don't really remember it happening, but I hear it all the same." Harry gave an involuntary shudder. "It's like I've got the memory of a memory, but it's disturbing enough that I had to learn quickly how to deal with the Dementors."

"I suppose I never realized that you were there when they died, but it makes sense. I mean, Mum's car crash story was nothing but a lie, but you were really there when they died."

"That's how I got my scar." Harry gestured towards his forehead. "So at least that was true: she always told me I got it at the same time they died."

"I'm sorry." He seemed to be repeating that a lot tonight, but realization of what his cousin had suffered was starting to set in for Dudley.

"It was a long time ago." Harry shrugged again. "And the guy who did it will never hurt anyone else again."

"What happened to him?"

"He's dead." Harry looked up and smiled. "Most truly and completely dead, as they say. I guess he's one of the main reasons that I decided to become an Auror."

"To make sure that others like him die?"

"Or go to prison. Just to keep people safe from dark wizards like him and his followers." He paused, adjusting the throw over Ginny as she shifted on his lap. "I really enjoy it, but I love to play Quidditch as well, and I couldn't pass up the chance to play for England."

A sleepy voice spoke up. "You can't pass up the chance to play Quidditch at all." Apparently Ginny was now awake, and she sat up yawning. "You let me fall asleep?"

"You needed it." Harry planted a kiss on one sleep-creased cheek. "You're pushing yourself too hard and I worry about both of you."

Ginny smiled as Harry mentioned the baby she carried, a soft smile so filled with contentment and joy that Dudley's heart gave a little leap. Harry was definitely a lucky man. Her eyes shone as she glanced between Harry and Dudley. "You told him?" Harry nodded. "Good! I suppose that means it's not a secret anymore. It's not as though we could have kept hiding it much longer." She ran her hand over her belly, drawing attention to the small bump that was swelling there.

Harry reached out and buried his hands in her hair, pulling in her towards him for a proper kiss, murmuring against her lips. "Definitely can't keep it a secret for much longer." Dudley realized he was staring and, blushing, turned away and headed for the kitchen where he busied himself making coffee, only looking up when he heard them resume their conversation.

"So I suppose the next step is to tell my parents." She sounded almost giddy at the prospect. "Mum's going to be thrilled - two new grandbabies at the same time."

Dudley placed the milk and sugar on the tray and walked back over to the living room and set it down on the tiny coffee table. He couldn't help but ask. "Two?"

"My brother's wife is pregnant too, actually due about a month after this one." Ginny said, adding milk to her coffee.

Dudley handed Harry a cup. "These aren't the first grandkids are they?" He thought he remembered them mentioning at least one or two when they had discussed her family.

Harry laughed. "Nope. Our baby will be number eight, and Ron and Hermione's will be number nine."

Dudley's eyes widened. "You've got seven nieces and nephews?"

"No," Ginny's voice was muffled by her cup as she took a sip of her coffee. She swallowed and continued. "I have seven nephews. No nieces at all."

"No girls?"

"Not a one." Harry blew across the surface of his coffee to cool it. "Ginny is the first Weasley girl born in over a hundred years, and her brothers seem intent on carrying on the tradition." Taking a sip of his coffee, he continued under his breath, "Not to mention following in the Weasley tradition of having lots of kids." Ginny smacked him on the shoulder.

Dudley, being an only child, had a hard time wrapping his mind around the concept of so many boys around. "How old are your nephews?"

Ginny wrapped her hands around her mug and snuggled back into Harry's side, resting her head on the same shoulder she had just hit. "The oldest is four and the youngest is six months. Family dinners at our house are fun, to say the least."

Harry chimed in, "And noisy."

She grinned. "That will get worse before it gets better."

He wrapped his arms around her. "You've got a point, but I wouldn't trade a minute of it." Whatever response Ginny was going to make was lost in a huge yawn. Harry raised an eyebrow at her. "Well, I'm thinking it's time for me to take you home before you fall asleep on me again." Ginny nodded her agreement and they both rose from the sofa.

"Thanks for dinner, Dudley, I'm sorry about earlier, but I really had a good time." Ginny leaned in and gave Dudley a quick kiss on the cheek, causing him to blush brilliantly.

Harry couldn't resist teasing his cousin just a bit. "Should I worry about the two of you while I go and get a taxi?"

"A taxi? You'll have a time trying to catch one in this neighborhood." Dudley reached for his keys. "Let me give you a ride."

Both Harry and Ginny tried to reassure Dudley that it wasn't necessary for him to drive them, but their protests fell on deaf ears, and ten minutes later they were seated in Dudley's practical compact car. It was several years old, but it was clean and appeared to be well cared for, although Harry did comment that it wasn't the car he would have expected Dudley to be driving.

"You know, five years ago, I'd have said the same thing." Dudley laughed. "Granted, five years ago I could barely have fitted into this car. But this one is mine: I picked it out and paid for it myself. Dad offered to buy me a car when I was still in university, but I didn't want to have to owe him for it. So I worked all through one summer to be able to afford to buy my own. It's not one of those big showy cars that Mum and Dad like, but it does well for me."

Ginny spoke up from her position in the back seat - Harry's legs were just too long for him to comfortably be able to ride in the back. "It's lovely, Dudley, really. Nicer than any car my family has ever owned."

Harry smirked over his shoulder at her. "The only car your family has ever owned flew, and was charmed to expand whenever it needed to."

Dudley laughed. "Was that the flying car that came and broke you out of the house the year we were twelve?"

"That's the one. Stolen and driven by my miscreant brothers."

"You are only calling them that because they didn't wake you up and take you with them." Harry turned back to the front and whispered something that made no sense to Dudley, but caused his wand, which he was holding in his hand below the level of the window to spin in his palm. "Take the next left up here, Dudders, and it'll just be another block or so past the turn."

Dudley looked up at the street sign. "On Charring Cross road?" As Harry nodded, Dudley couldn't help but ask. "You live there?" He was familiar with the area, having spent time in local pubs, but it wouldn't be his first choice for a place to live.

Ginny laughed. "No, but there's a wizarding pub here that I can use to Floo home."

Dudley was confused. "Floo?"

Harry tucked his wand into the pocket of his jacket. "It's traveling through fireplaces. Normally we'd just Apparate home - in fact I still will - but it's not safe for Ginny to Apparate when she's pregnant, so we have to find a fireplace."

Dudley nodded, the memory of his parents' living room with one wall blown out coming back to him as he turned off the car. "I can drive you home, I don't mind." But he knew even as soon as he said it that they would turn down his offer; the looks passing between them spoke as much. He wondered if they just didn't trust him enough yet to let him see where they lived.

Harry seemed to read his mind. "We appreciate the offer, and it's not that we don't want to show you our place, it's just a logistics issue."

Dudley started. "It's okay, really."

Harry gave a deep sigh and twisted in his seat to face Dudley. "I admit, even up until tonight, I wasn't entirely sure that you weren't just having me on. But I've seen where and how you live, and the boy I grew up with wouldn't even dream of setting foot in that flat, let alone living there. Add to that the fact that you cook your own meals and drive a car that you chose because it's practical, not because it's showy, and I know that this really is who you turned out to be."

Ginny leaned forward and patted him on the shoulder. "I'd love to have you drive us home, but it really is a long way from here."

"How long a way?" Dudley's curiosity was piqued as he got out of the car.

Harry hopped out of the car and opened Ginny's door for her. "By car? I'd suppose a good six hours or so. We've got a little house just outside the village of Hogsmeade."

Startled, Dudley looked back and forth between the two of them. "Hogsmeade?"

"It's in Scotland," Ginny supplied as she stood on her tiptoes to give Harry a kiss on the cheek.

"You traveled all the way from Scotland just for dinner?" He was amazed.

"Well, travel is bit easier for us than what you're used to." Harry grinned at him. "We can get back and forth in about a minute." Dudley gaped at him.

Ginny spoke up. "We'd love to have you come to visit though."

Harry beamed at her, obviously thrilled by her invitation. "Yeah! Why don't you come up for an entire weekend sometime?"

Dudley nodded. "That sounds great. I'll have to check, but I think I've got a free weekend coming up soon."

Harry clapped Dudley on the back. "Great. I'll send an owl, or see about getting a hold of a phone and we'll get the details all worked out." He glanced at Ginny who was attempting to stifle a yawn. "But in the meantime, it looks like we need to get home before my lovely wife falls asleep in the middle of the street."

They exchanged good-byes and Dudley watched the pair mount the stairs into a tiny pub, which he hadn't even noticed until that point, walk through the door and again disappear from view.

**


	5. Chapter 5

A/N: Here is the final chapter. It hasn't been beta-read, so I hope that I've managed to find and fix all of the glaring errors. There will be an epilogue coming shortly, but this is the last true chapter. I've gotten several comments about the fact that this story directly contradicts Deathly Hallows canon, and I completely agree, however everything but the (as yet unposted) epilogue and the last couple of paragraphs of this chapter were all written way back in 2005, prior to the DH release. And as we see the Weasley family this chapter, the non-DH compliance is even more obvious. I hope you all understand and I wanted to thank everyone who has read this story and taken the time to review, mark it as a favorite or put it on alert.

Chapter Five

Checking his bag to make sure he hadn't forgotten anything, Dudley couldn't help but brace himself for another delay. Between a minor staffing crisis at Dudley's shop, and Harry's unexpected Quidditch trip to Argentina when the seeker Harry was competing with for a spot on the national team became incapacitated after a particularly nasty bludger hit to a sensitive area, it was nearly six weeks before Dudley could take Ginny up on her invitation to spend a weekend at the Potter's home. But so far, nothing appeared to be interfering on this crisp December evening. There were several inches of fresh snow layered on the ground, coating the neighborhood, obscuring the underlying ugliness of the area with the pure whiteness and the way it twinkled in the light pouring from the many windows. There was just something about the city when it snowed that Dudley loved.

However this day, the only thing he could hope was that the weather wouldn't interfere with his plans to head north. He had put the tiny television onto the news report earlier while he had packed, and the weatherman had been almost annoyingly cheerful while explaining that London had gotten just the very edge of the storm, the majority of it going farther north, dumping feet of snow in its wake. Not being entirely sure where he was going, he had nevertheless made sure that he had packed his warmest clothes and a full spate of outerwear. He was fully aware that his nearly obsessive packing and re-packing had been nothing more than an outlet for his nerves. Dudley had yet to approach a meeting with his cousin without feeling nervous, but the thought of traveling to Harry's house and spending the entire weekend there had made him so nervous he was unable to sit still. He couldn't even explain why he was so nervous, it wasn't as if he was worried about his safety and his previous meetings with the Potters had all gone very well, making Dudley feel that they were entering what could be a strong friendship to last for many years.

A knock on the door brought Dudley out of his thoughts, and he opened the door to find Harry leaning causally against the wall on the opposite side of the hallway, looking slightly ruffled by the December wind that was blowing outside and inexplicably holding a crumpled tin can in one hand. A bright smile lit up Harry's face as he took in the waiting bag and heavy jacket. "Hey Dudley. It looks like you're all ready to go." At Dudley's nod, he held out the tin can, chuckling softly at the confused expression on his cousin's face. "This is a portkey, and in about one minute, it'll activate and take you directly into our back garden."

Dudley glanced down at the can in his hand. "This?" Harry nodded. "It looks like something out of a rubbish bin."

"You're not far off. See, to be able to use the Floo and travel through fireplaces, you've got to be magic, but portkeys work on everyone. So yeah, really they are rubbish most of the time, so muggles don't pick them up. But this one's about to activate, so you'll want to put your jacket on, grab your bag and I'll meet you there." Dudley had barely put his arms though the sleeves of the bulky garment when he felt an alarming tug behind his navel and Harry's voice, sounding as though he was calling from the other end of a very long tunnel. "Try to keep your feet underneath you when you land!"

The best thing Dudley could say about portkey travel was that it was thankfully over very quickly. Struggling back to his feet from where he had ended up face down in the knee-deep snow, he glanced over at Harry as he appeared next to him with a soft pop.

"You okay?" Harry flicked his wand and the snow covering Dudley's clothes disappeared, leaving him completely dry and a little warmer than he would have expected with the wind whipping around them.

"I'm good. Interesting way to travel." Harry laughed at the understatement. Dudley reached down and retrieved his bag from where it had sunk into the snow. "I noticed that you didn't come the same way."

"I hate it. And I'm not real fond of using the floo either. I don't even really like to apparate, but it's better than the other two." Reaching out, he plucked Dudley's bag from his hand and gestured over his shoulder. "Shall we head in? Ginny should just about have supper ready."

Dudley finally regained his senses enough to look around. They had ended up in a back garden, distinguishable from the open fields and dense forest beyond it only by the raised patches in the snow that indicated low walls surrounding it. Behind Harry, a white house rose up invitingly. The house had a comfortable look about it, the flickering yellow light from the window was like a beacon to him as the feelings of warmth and family and companionship seemed to radiate from the structure. He nodded to Harry and they made their way to the back step, then stomping the snow from their feet, stepped inside.

Hanging his coat on the hook that Harry indicated, Dudley followed him into what turned out to be the kitchen and was immediately hit with a wave of warmth and light. The room was large, with a big scrubbed wood table occupying one half of it. There was an empty laundry basket sitting at one end, surrounded by stacks of freshly folded sheets and towels. Ginny stood across the room overseeing something at the stove, wrapped in a red and white apron. Harry crossed the room to give her a quick kiss and a teasing flip to her long hair, which she had pulled back in a ponytail, which in Dudley's opinion, made her look incredibly young. She retaliated by ruffling Harry's hair, making no difference in its perpetually messy state. The six weeks since they had last seen each other had made quite a difference, turning the tiny bump she had sported as evidence of her pregnancy at the dinner at his flat into a noticeable bulge. She practically glowed as she turned to Dudley, crossing the room to give him a quick peck on the cheek.

Dudley couldn't ever remember having felt quite as comfortable or at home in any one place in his life. Harry had taken his bag and disappeared up a wooden staircase, while Ginny handed him a cup of tea and sat him in a comfortable chair next to the fire that was roaring in the huge stone fireplace. There was a tantalizing smell emerging from the bubbling pot on the stove, mixing with the unmistakable aroma of fresh baked bread, the combination making his mouth water. Between the warmth from the fire, the delicious smells and the soothing cup of tea in his hand, Dudley was ready to let the stresses of the past week dissolve and just wallow in the comfortable feeling of the Potter's home.

But beyond these simple creature comforts, the kitchen was nothing like any other he had ever found himself in. The room was lit, not by the electric lights that he considered normal, but by a series of candles floating overhead, torches stuck in brackets on the wall and what appeared to be hanging metal bowls full of fire. The resulting light was warm, and much brighter than Dudley would have expected. He tried desperately not to stare at the spoon that was stirring the pot all by itself, or the dishes in the sink that were washing and drying themselves, then flying across the room to stack neatly in the cabinets. Casting around for something to distract him from these amazing things, he gave a start when he finally realized that he wasn't alone by the fire. An enormous basket lay near him, containing the largest dog he had ever seen, its sleep only being disturbed by the twitching of its huge paws and the snuffling little noises it made as it dreamed.

Ginny followed his gaze and gave a light laugh. "Don't worry about Fang. He's big and kind of scary looking at first, but once you get to know him, you'll realize he's nothing but a big baby." At the sound of his name, the huge beast raised his head. Noticing the visitor in the kitchen for the first time, he stood, yawned and stretched, then headed over to greet Dudley by swiping his great tongue across Dudley's face.

A bit taken aback by the rather damp greeting, he laughed while attempting to fend off Fang. "I suppose I never figured Harry as much of a dog person."

"He's not really, but Fang belonged to a good friend of ours who died in the war. He'd asked me to take care of him before he left on his last mission, and when he never came back, Fang just kind of stayed with me. Harry wouldn't even think of giving him up, it's like he's still just got a little bit of Hagrid still with him."

Dudley sat up a little straighter and resisted the unexpected urge to cover his backside with his hands. "Hagrid? He's that huge bloke, right?"

Ginny nodded as she stacked the folded sheets and towels back in the basket, and then sent it flying out of the room with a wave of her wand, apparently struggling to keep from laughing. Dudley sighed. "I'm guessing you've heard about the pig tail."

She lost the fight to keep her laughter contained and it rang out through the kitchen, joined by Dudley's. "Everyone has. Harry told that story at Hagrid's wake." She moved around the kitchen as she spoke, casually flicking her wand at various drawers and cabinets. Dishes and silverware flew across the room to arrange themselves on the table.

Dudley stared at the table, amazed. "Lovely. One of the most humiliating instances in my life, bandied about for entertainment value." The laughter in his voice contradicted the harsh words. "I deserved it though, I was such a little spoiled pig."

Harry's voice sounded from the staircase behind Dudley. "Sorry about sharing that. But if it's any consolation, everyone thought it was an amazing story. Especially when I told them about how Uncle Vernon had to pay those surgeons that huge amount to keep them quiet about it."

"I think that was the worst part. Laying there on that table with my bum exposed for the entire world to see and what seemed like every doctor in the entire country coming in to take a look at it. Took forever for that incision to heal." Laughter rang through the kitchen, accompanied by excited barks as Fang took the mirth as an invitation to jump up on Harry and lick his ears.

Harry expertly fended off the huge dog, settling him back in his basket, content to gnaw on the large bone Harry provided for him. Meanwhile, Ginny was moving the large pot from the stove to the table, while the breadboard floated along next to her, the freshly baked loaf on it steaming slightly. "I'm afraid dinner is nothing fancy tonight. My brother Charlie is coming in from Romania tomorrow, so we're having my whole family over." She deftly sliced the bread, passing a piece to Dudley and another to Harry. "With all the wives and grandkids and girlfriends, our house is about the only one big enough to hold them all. My parents' house is just too small, but no matter where we all meet up, my mother still insists on trying to be in charge. I love her to death, but if I don't have everything in order before she gets here, she'll swoop right in and take over my entire house."

Dudley accepted his bowl of soup, looking slightly alarmed. "Sounds a bit like my mother."

Harry laughed as he took a spoonful of his own soup. "Trust me Dudders; she's nothing at all like your mother." Blowing slightly on his spoon to cool the soup, he clarified. "Your mum is so convinced that she can do everything better than anyone else, she doesn't even want to let anyone else even try. Ginny's mum just wants to make things easier on her family, she's afraid that Ginny is going to over-do things. Aunt Petunia is overwhelming trying to show everyone how perfect she is, Mrs. Weasley is overwhelming trying to show everyone how much she loves them. It's a big difference."

**

The next day found the three of them chatting as they walked down the snowy streets of Hogsmeade. Not sure what to expect on his first visit to an entirely wizarding village, Dudley was forced to admit that it exceeded even his wildest imaginings. Even something as mundane as a window display was fascinating to him. Granted the window display in question was for a wizarding toy store and featured small plush animals frolicking back and forth, occasionally stopping to chase a tail or pounce on a companion, but Dudley still felt incredibly out of his element as he gaped at it. "I can't imagine how you ever get your shopping done; I think I'd do nothing but stop and stare constantly."

"You do get used to it," Harry volunteered. "But I know how you feel. My first trip to Diagon Alley to get my school stuff took forever, because I wanted to see everything. It was brilliant."

Ginny pulled her cloak around her a little tighter as a gust of cold wind whirled past them. "I used to feel the same way in muggle shops; it made Harry laugh when I got all fussed over something as simple as a pen."

Dudley snickered and turned his eager attention to the next shop front. The snowstorm of the previous day had blown itself out by the morning, which had dawned cold and bright, the sun glinting brightly off of the show, almost blinding in its intensity. Dudley had come down to find Harry standing at the stove, transferring bacon to a plate before sending it to the table where Ginny sat, a teasing smile on her face. "You are so well trained. The perfect husband."

Harry laughed and planted a kiss on the top of her head as he slid into his own chair. "I aim to please." He added sugar to his coffee and gestured Dudley to the table, a mischievous smile on his face as he turned to Dudley. "So, you up for a trip into the village this morning?"

Dudley had been quick to agree, and was glad he had. Harry and Ginny, it seemed, were well known among the townspeople. Every shop entered, almost every person passed on the street had a bright greeting on their lips for the pair. They inquired about Ginny's family, about Harry's Quidditch games, even about Ginny's pregnancy. This made the experience even more foreign to Dudley, used to operating in the utter isolation that came from living on one's own in a large city. He didn't even know the names of the others that rented flats in the same building as him, let alone any of the shopkeepers or other residents of his neighborhood. He supposed that some of this was due to just living in a small town, for Hogsmeade appeared to be tiny, with no more than about four hundred residents total, but there seemed to be something a bit more intense in the resident's interest in Harry, but then again, he was an international athlete, so perhaps this increased attention was due to that, although the attention bestowed upon his cousin was definitely less than the fervor that non-wizards showed towards their sports stars. Harry, for his part, handled the attention well, although he did seem a bit uncomfortable with some of the more enthusiastic residents.

"You're going to love this next shop Dudley." Harry interrupted Dudley's thoughts, motioning him forward towards a shop called Honeydukes. "It's, without a doubt, the best sweets shop you will ever see in your life. You will not believe some of the things you can buy in here."

Looking around at the shelves around him, Dudley couldn't help but comment. "Oh lord, did you have to bring me in here? I'm going to be as big as a whale again if I spend much time at all in here."

Ginny's wry response cut across Harry's laughter. "Well I guess I know where Harry got his sweet tooth from; apparently it's a family trait."

Fifteen minutes later, they left the store, bulging bags in hand. Harry had insisted upon buying Dudley a sample of all of his favorite treats, assuring Dudley that there was really nothing dangerous. Ginny was tempted to tell Dudley different, as the cousins left the store with each of them pulling out various beans from a large box of Bernie Botts, laughing as they guessed flavors, then dared each other to eat them. They were so caught up in their impromptu game, they didn't notice the clutch of small boys clustered outside the door at first. But when the bravest of the boys stepped up, pushed forward by his giggling friends, Harry finally took notice of them, and sank to one knee to greet them. The boys swarmed around him, chattering about various Quidditch matches in which they'd seen him play, their exuberant smiles reflected on Harry's face.

Dudley watched, amazed at how well Harry interacted with the children. Turning to Ginny, he whispered in her ear. "He's going to make an amazing father."

Ginny beamed, her hand moving to rest on the swell of her stomach. "I know. You should hear him talk to the baby when there's no one else around. I never knew that my stomach was such a great conversationalist."

Dudley laughed softly, still fascinated by watching the children fawn all over Harry, nearly missing the question that made Harry blush a deep red and drop his head, seemingly to hide from his cousin and wife. "Mr. Potter? Can you sign my chocolate frog card?"

Ginny heard however, and gave a little start, then stepped up to the children, bending down with some difficulty to address them. "You've got one already? I didn't think they'd be out for another month or so." She smirked at the nasty look Harry had shot her way.

The little boy beamed at her and lifted his bag from Honeydukes. "I just got it today. Want to see?" At Ginny's nod he handed it over, she stood straight and turned to let Dudley see it as well. A picture of Harry wearing what appeared to be some sort of Quidditch uniform, his broom slung over his shoulder peered up at them, then waved and smiled. Ginny giggled and flashed the real Harry a grin before flipping the card over to read the back.

**Harry Potter**

**Currently Seeker for the English National Quidditch Team**

**Considered by many to be the most powerful wizard alive today, Harry Potter is best known for his dual defeats of the Dark Wizard Voldemort, first at the tender age of one, becoming the only known survivor of the killing curse and earning him the nickname, The Boy Who Lived. Mr. Potter witnessed Voldemort's return to power at the age of fourteen, and faced him several more times before finally defeating him for good at the age of seventeen. He is the youngest ever winner of the Tri-Wizard cup, and put a successful career as an Auror on hold for the opportunity to play World Cup Quidditch. Mr. Potter and his wife Ginevra live in Hogsmeade where they are currently expecting their first child. Mr. Potter enjoys the music of the Weird Sisters, flying and chess.**

Dudley felt the blood drain from his face as he looked up from the card and turned to Harry, who was again kneeling on one knee to put him on the same level with the children. He was looking decidedly uncomfortable as he scrawled his name across the cover of a glossy magazine which Dudley realized, somewhat belatedly, also bore a photo of Harry, this time surrounded by six other figures, all garbed in the same bright Quidditch robes. Harry quickly glanced up at Dudley, but ducked his head back down when he Dudley watching him.

Dudley's thoughts raced in his head. Harry did all of this? His scrawny little cousin Harry whom he had chased down and beaten up on a regular basis as a child? If Dudley was reading between the lines on that card right, his cousin had been revered as a savior all the time that Dudley was planning to have him locked into cupboards and shoving his face in the mud. What's more, the war that both Harry and Ginny spoke of with a haunted look in their eyes had been ended by Harry's own hand? The man he had grown to know over the last few months had been the one to personally avenge the murder of his parents?

**

Later that evening, with his thoughts still churning in the back of his mind, Dudley looked around and decided that 'overwhelmed' would be an understatement to how he felt right now. He wasn't sure that he'd been in a crowd this size since leaving university. Knowing that all of these people were related didn't make him feel any less intimidated. He's been introduced to them all as they arrived, but trying to remember who was who, and even worse, which wife and what kids belonged to who was proving difficult. He was fairly sure that the beautiful blond woman, the one who had just about taken his breath away when he first saw her was married to the tall guy with the scars all over his face. He was also sure that at least three of the small redheaded boys that were currently darting in-between the adults belonged to this couple. He was fairly sure that the baby that Harry had appropriated the second it had appeared at the doorway on its mother's arm, that was even now burying one drool covered hand in his dark hair, belonged to one of the twins, but he couldn't see how anyone could tell which one. As he sipped his drink, he idly wondered if even their wives could ever be sure that they took the right husband home each night. The family was loud and boisterous, multiple conversations taking place at once, with clusters of people talking animatedly everywhere he looked. The spouses were easily distinguishable by their lack of red hair, lending some variety in the form of black and brown and blond heads, as there didn't seem to be any difference in their behavior. All of them seemed to be talking loudly, as if to make sure they would be heard over the other loud conversations taking place around them. They all gestured widely as they spoke and laughed without hesitation.

It was completely foreign to Dudley, so unlike the snooty parties and get-togethers that his parents hosted at their home. It alarmed him at first, between the noise and the tendency of the brothers to send items flying back and forth to each other across the room. It didn't help either that every single member of the Weasley family, from the parents to the sons to the spouses and even some of the older children had looked suspiciously at him when they entered the house. Harry had assured him before the family's arrival that he had spoken to all of them, informed them of the changes in Dudley and their relationship, telling his surrogate family just how important it was to him to have this connection with the one member of his blood family that he was willing to acknowledge as such. He said that he had extracted a promise from each of the brothers that Dudley would be safe from pranks, hexes and nasty comments. So far it the promise seemed to be holding, as everyone was unfailingly polite to him as he was introduced by Ginny, but the politeness only extended so far. The message they were silently sending him was clear. Harry may be convinced that he'd changed and trusted him, but they didn't, and they wouldn't hesitate to defend Harry if it became necessary.

As the evening wore on and the family started to relax in his presence, Dudley had to admit, once you got past the admitting well deserved looks he kept getting, the Weasley clan was a fun one to be around. Sure the noise level was high, but everyone seemed so happy as they finished eating. The large amount of food that had covered the table in the kitchen earlier was decimated, surprising Dudley, who had thought it was enough to feed a crowd twice this size, but he hadn't counted on the appetites of the Weasley brothers and he was amazed that none of them resembled his former physique with the way they ate. Ginny stood by the stove, laughing at something one of the women gathered around her had said. She was apparently comparing the size of her belly with the equally swollen one of the brown haired woman standing next to her. Ginny's mother stood with another group of women, two of which balanced toddlers on their hips as the faint sounds of a conversation about toilet training drifted across the room. The loudest group by far was the cluster of men and small boys at the end of the table as they engaged in an animated debate about the merits of various Quidditch players. Harry sat in the middle of this group, baby still on his lap, indistinguishable from the others in his fervor and animation, only the shock of black hair on his head made him stand out.

Dudley knew he was staring, but he just couldn't seem to tear his eyes away as he struggled to assimilate what he had learned this afternoon to the man he thought he knew. The interactions of the others with Harry fascinated him almost as much as his observation of the man himself, he was being teased mercilessly by the redheads surrounding him, but seemed to be giving as good as he was getting. They didn't treat him any different than they did each other and definitely not the way he would expect to see a hero treated. He idly wondered if the awe wore off after a while.

Dudley's musings were interrupted by a voice rising above the din, "Oi, Weasleys, who's up for Quidditch?" No one seemed to be sure who exactly had spoken, and for a fraction of a moment all was still and silent, but it was short-lived and what Dudley had thought was chaos before was nothing compared to the activity that surrounded him now. All around him the family was hastily donning their warm outdoor clothing and brooms were emerging from places he couldn't even begin to fathom. And what odd brooms they were. They bore no more than a passing resemblance to the object that Dudley's mother had used to clean her floor, no these were sleek and polished, the twigs all evenly clipped, some more so than others, but all were handled with an air of reverence. The twins were cajoling their mother into playing, the small boys were begging to be allowed to join in, and indulgent parents agreed for all but the baby that had been deposited in Ginny's arms by Harry, and the two toddlers who could barely walk. These had been deposited at the feet of the other pregnant sister-in-law, the one Harry had introduced as his best friend Hermione. In what seemed like an impossibly short period of time, the kitchen was deserted, save for the six of them.

Dudley watched out the window as the entire clan disappeared over a ridge in the back garden heading towards a clearing in the woods until Ginny turned to him, her cheeks flushed and eyes sparkling with excitement. "Grab your coat Duds; you are going to love watching this."

**

Looking back on the match later that evening from the warm quiet of the comfortable spare room that he'd been staying in, Dudley wasn't sure that love was the best way to describe how he had felt watching the Weasley clan play Quidditch. Awed? Yes. Incredulous? Just a little bit. Terrified? Most definitely. Ginny had tried to explain to him about Quaffles and Bludgers and Snitches, but he was too preoccupied watching to really have it sink in. There was so much action going on, it was hard to concentrate on any one aspect of the game. The game was faster paced than anything he had ever seen, people on brooms streaking across the clearing at amazing rates of speed, weaving in and out of the squealing children, the red and black balls flashing as they went from player to player. Even to his inexperienced eye, the coordination was amazing, as the group of faster players that seemed to include most of the red haired brothers and even a few of their wives effortlessly managed to avoid running into those that flew at a slower pace.

Dudley had sat with the two women and three children, cheering along with them as the flyers defied gravity with amazing stunts and gently trying to pump Ginny and Hermione for details on Harry's life, the short biography on the card he had seen only having piqued his interest. They had answered his questions without reserve, but Dudley was still curious, with too many questions in his head to feel comfortable asking them all in this causal setting. He'd been immensely grateful to Ginny when she had knocked softly on the door to the spare room he was occupying late that evening as they were all retiring for the night. She had handed him a small leather-bound volume, warning him not to let Harry see, as he hated the book, then with a quick wave, she has slipped back out the door. Dudley had turned the book over and stared.

**The Chosen One: A Biography of Harry J. Potter**

He had been transfixed, unable to put the book down as he read a stranger's account of his cousin's life, giving details to the events listed on hte back of the card he'd seen earlier and other events that he'd never even realized had happened. Dudley was feeling almost as shell-shocked now as he had in that moment, several years ago when it finally had hit him how very dysfunctional their upbringing had been. His mind spun, the surreality hitting him hard, his cousin was nothing short of a full fledged hero. Dudley had always thought growing up that he was leading a charmed life. His parents doted on him constantly, he never wanted for anything, from food to toys to affection, and nothing in the world made him happier than being able to lord that over Harry. How on earth was it possible that he, who had been so often told that he was so very special had lived a practically charmed childhood only to grow up and realize that he wasn't so very special after all while Harry, who truly was so exceptionally special, had spent his childhood being neglected and treated harshly. It spoke wonders to the quality of his cousin's character that, with all the power he apparently had at his disposal, he had resisted the urges that had to exist to heap retribution upon the Dursley family, but instead simply walked away to build his own life and happiness far from the influence of those who had done such a poor job in the rearing of him. Realizing what a gift he had been given in Harry's friendship and forgiveness, Dudley silently made a vow to himself that he would never take this rekindled and rebuilt relationship for granted and to strive to be the kind of person that Harry would be proud to call family.


	6. Chapter 6

A/N: So here is the last little follow-up on this story and it's now complete. My apologies that it took a little longer to get out than I had hoped. Thanks to everyone who has read this story, reviewed it, or put it on their alert or favorites lists. Again, we're still not DH compliant, I started this way before DH came out and I felt that to try to work it into DH canon would have seriously compromised the flow, so if you can get past that, I hope you enjoy it.

Epilogue

The pounding on the door woke Dudley from a very sound sleep. A quick glance at the clock showed revealed that it wasn't just his perception; it was insanely early in the morning for someone to be pounding incessantly on his door. But pounding they were and they didn't appear to be letting up at all, if anything, the pounding was getting louder. Fearing the wrath of his neighbors if he didn't make it stop soon, he disentangled himself from the warm body next to him, fought his way out from under the duvet and without even bothering with slippers and a dressing gown he stumbled for the door, muttering under his breath. "It's got to be Nigel again, who else would banging on my door at half two in the bloody morning, likely had too much to drink again and forgot which flat is his?" Flipping on a light switch and blinking as he was unprepared for the brightness, he reached for the door, prepared to deal yet again with the hapless Nigel, who actually lived a floor above him with his young bride, but had an unfortunate tendency to down a few too many pints at the pub down the street and hit the wrong button in the lift while making his way home. However, much to Dudley's surprise, when he finally managed to wrench his door open, it wasn't his drunken neighbor standing there with his fist upraised ready to knock again, but rather his cousin, looking incredibly tired but with a huge smile on his face.

"It's a boy!" Harry crowed before engulfing the half-asleep Dudley in a big hug. "Nice pants by the way."

Dudley looked down at himself, he'd answered the door in nothing but a pair of boxers with a pattern of bright yellow toy ducks printed on them and answered dryly, "Thanks. They were a gift." Then he woke up enough to realize what Harry had said first. "A boy! Congratulations! It's about time" he crowed as he stepped back to let him in, reaching over and turning on the light. "Have the girls met him yet?"

"Not yet, I'll take them over in the morning, but I stopped at Ron and Hermione's to tell them before I came here. They were not horribly thrilled to be woken up in the middle of the night. Lily and Molly were very disappointed to hear that they now have to live with a boy and Becca didn't really care, she just wanted to go home."

Dudley could hardly believe that it had been eight years since the cousins had reconnected on that busy street but one only had to look at Harry and Ginny's three daughters to see that it truly had been. The oldest, Lily, had celebrated her seventh birthday the previous March, but the memories of her birth and holding her at just a few hours old as Ginny's family swarmed around them, thrilled to at last have a little girl in their midst. It was hard to reconcile the love he felt for that tiny, red-faced squalling scrap of humanity and with the overwhelming feelings he had for the cheerful bouncing child with the curly dark hair who had just last week grinned up at him with a gap-toothed smile as she described her latest maneuver on her new broom. "A real grown-up broom Uncle Dudley! It's not super fast like Mummy and Daddy's brooms, but it's not a baby broom with safety charms like Molly's either!"

A shriek of protest countered her description of her sister's broom as a baby broom. Molly Potter at five was without a doubt one of the most stubborn, fiercely independent children that Dudley had ever met. A tiny replica of her mother, both in looks and attitude, Harry's second daughter hated ever being told that she was too little to do anything. She was convinced in her own mind that she could fly as well, run as fast, jump as high, as not only her older sister and cousins, but as the adults around her. Add in her total fearlessness of the unknown and it made little miss Molly quite a handful to deal with. She was a brash and loud tomboy, completely rambunctious and totally unconcerned about who she angered or irritated on her way through life and Dudley loved her completely.

By contrast, the littlest of the Potter girls was the one that Ginny would have sworn was switched at birth if it wasn't for the fact that she was undeniably Harry's daughter, from the bright green eyes to the knobby knees and uncontrollable hair. But as alike as she was to her father in appearance, little Rebecca Potter was nothing like either of her parents in personality. She was as her mother put it, a total girlie-girl. Any attempts to dress her in anything other than pink would result in not a tantrum like her older sisters, but instead silent tears rolling down her chubby little cheeks and a look of such hurt in her eyes that even Ginny, who had taken the role of disciplinarian with their children (since she said that if she counted on Harry to do it, the kids would spend everyday jumping off the roof) would give in to her. She loved to wear anything that was sparkly and instead of a teddy bear or security blanket, she had a little white purse that she carried everywhere with her and even slept with. It had been said many times within the Weasley family that she accessorized better at 2 and a half than either of her parents did as adults and Hermione Weasley even commented that the child appeared to be sharing a spirit with someone called Lavender Brown, which resulted in some good-natured teasing of her husband by his brothers.

And now Harry and Ginny had a new son to round out their family and Harry's happiness was contagious. Dudley couldn't help but return his cousin's grin as he started asking questions. "So does this new addition have a name yet?"

"Yep. James Sirius Potter. He was born at 11:18 last night, weighs just under three and a half kilos, has a full head of hair that unfortunately looks like he inherited from me and the greenest eyes that the healer said he's ever seen in a newborn." Harry was bouncing on his feet in excitement in a way Dudley had only ever seen the three prior times he'd shown up to announce the birth of his daughters.

A pair of slender arms snuck around Dudley's waist from behind and a soft voice spoke over his shoulder. "Congratulations Harry."

It turned out that Dudley's winter weekend spent at the Potter's home had been the catalyst he needed to make some long postponed changes in his life. The week after returning he decided he was finally ready to give up on the agreement he had made with his parents concerning his plans for graduate school. He had started looking at alternate ways to finance his education, and had been thrilled to find that his undergraduate marks were good enough to earn him a scholarship from a small school in northern England and between that and some student loans, he could manage to cover the cost of graduate school without any help from his parents and had started putting out feelers for a job and flat in the town where the school was located. This proved to be fortuitous as soon after, his father came to visit him in his office right as Harry was leaving after having joined Dudley for lunch. What followed was less of a discussion and more of a screaming match, ending only when Dudley, seriously concerned for the state of his father's heart, ended up calling an ambulance because he was sure Vernon was having a heart attack. The following week had been chaotic, his father, upon his release from the hospital, ignored the doctor's orders to stay calm and yelled until his face turned purple again. His mother cried and Dudley ended it by quitting his job, packing his small car to capacity and leaving the city, his destination a small northern city and the fulfillment of his goals and dreams.

The next few years had found Dudley finishing school and moving back to London to take a position helping abused and neglected children, wanting to make sure that children didn't have to suffer in silence like Harry had growing up. He also spent more and more time with his cousin and his family. Harry's young daughters grew up calling him Uncle Dudley and delighting in the muggle toys he often brought them. It was on one of his frequent weekends visiting their home that he was introduced to Elaine, a primary school teacher. She was the squib sister of one Hermione's co-workers and a frequent babysitter of the young Weasley children. They hit it off almost immediately, finding common ground in their work with children and their positions on the outskirts of the magical community and they married soon after Dudley finished school. They bought a flat on a quiet street and built a circle of friends, both muggle and magical.

His relationship with his parents grew more distant however. They spoke weekly on the phone during the years he spent finishing his graduate work, but he he didn't actually see them in person again until he left school and brought Elaine to Surrey to introduce her to her future in-laws. They liked her well enough until they realized that she was the only "normal" one from what they called a family of freaks, they then tried desperately to talk Dudley out of marrying her, to no avail. Again, Dudley's mother cried, his father yelled, but he stood his ground and informed them that he was getting married with or without their approval. They did finally consent to come to the wedding, where they glared at nearly everyone in attendance and muttered under their breath, embarrassing him to no end.

Since then, Dudley's interactions with his parents had been even more strained and superficial, as they didn't want to hear about his job, about Harry or his family, or about the time they spent with Elaine's family. The once weekly phone calls became monthly phone calls. They talked about how Elaine was decorating the new flat, how well Grunnings was doing, Vernon and Petunia's new car, what the neighbors on Privet drive were up to and all the latest gossip concerning his old school chums and Aunt Marge. He ended each conversation with vague promises about coming to visit more often and hung up feeling frustrated and a little guilty that this is what his relationship with his parents had come to. Three months ago, he shared the closest thing to a meaningful conversation he had with his parents in years. He had called them, excited beyond belief to inform them that in six months time, they would be grandparents, but instead of being happy, they were upset, going on and on about how he risked having a freak of a child. Dudley had not spoken to them since, refusing to let them ruin his joy over his impending fatherhood.

Even now, as Elaine stood behind him, the hard swell of her belly pressing into his back, as Harry continued to tell the details of his son's entrance into the world, he again felt the joyous anticipation realizing that shortly he would be in the same position of informing his friends and family about the birth of his child. He grinned at Harry. "So when can we come meet this young man?"

"As soon as you put some clothes on." Harry glanced pointedly at Dudley's toy duck boxers and raised an eyebrow. "After all, you don't want to scare him."

Dudley laughed. "Give us a couple of minutes and we'll drive over, I'm not sure Elaine would be up to a portkey right now." He could feel her shaking her head emphatically. "You want to ride with us or meet us there?"

"I'll meet you there." And with a quick turn and a quiet pop, he was gone.

Turning and taking his wife into his arms, Dudley bent his head and kissed her, the excitement of the Potter's new baby building even more anticipation for the arrival of their own soon. He had never imagined just how happy he would be, with a job that he loved, a wife he adored and an extended family that he doted on. He could feel the baby kicking and again thanked whatever little tendril of fate that led him not only to the chance meeting with Harry on the street, but to the opportunity he had all those years ago to break out of the Dursley form he'd been molded into and to become his own person, a person he could be proud of.

~finis~


End file.
